.U685 C5 
1913 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




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Class _^?S^4^_^ 
BookJliil_C5 

Copyright >i" 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Chips and Whetstones 



BY 



MARCUS L. BURRIS 




NEW YORK: 
EVERY WHERE PUBLISHING CO. 






Copyright, 1913, 

BY 

Marcus L. Burris. 



©CU34 6551 



To My Friends and Fellow Workers 

This Book Is Respectfully Dedicated 

By the Author 



CONTENTS. 



Twenty Lines 

The Voice of Nature 

Too Early . 

His Apology 

The Happy Hunting Ground 

A Smiow-storm 

The Voyage of Life 

Dear Youth of My Country 

Forest Scene 

Winter's Coming 

Autumn 

New Year 'Greeting 

Song of the Redeemer 

Inflorescence 

Christ and .Nicodemus 

Com'e Home 

Consecration 

The Love oif God 

Thanksgiving Psalm 

Reflections .on a Skull 

Persevere 

Thy Will Be Do'ne 

Seeking for Jesus 

Swear Not At All 

The Great Discovery 

The Well Is Deep 

A Soldier's D'ream 

To A Friend 

Song of a Squirrel 

The Resurrection 

The Soul 

A Southern Belle 



PAGE 
I 
2 

3 

4 
5 
7 
8 
n 
13 
15 
17 
19 

21 
23 
25 
21 
28 
29 

30 

31 
2,Z 
34 
35 
Z^ 
38 
40 
42 
43 
44 
46 
47 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The Great Beyond 5o 

Paradise .......•• 55 

Fare Thee Well 57 

Ode to Youth . S8 

Trouble in Youth To-day 60 

The Poet to His Wife 62 

Angel of Death 64 

Coming Through the Lea . • . • .66 

Death of Expectation 68 

Mother ^ . 69 

Lucifer ......... 71 

Gussie 72 

In Memory of a Classmate Ti 

Hear, (O hear, the Saviour Calling . . . -75 

Pebble's from the Deep ^^ 

The Christian's Dream . . . . . .84 

Billy Bedouin 8q 

Pay Your Vows Untp the Most High . . .93 
What is Success? ....... 94 

Biroken Clouds ........ 96 

Puff, Puff. Puff 97 

The Cud-Chewers ....... 98 

The Vision ........ 100 

FJyin' Instruments ....... 102 

A Possum Hunt ....... 104 

A Fishin' Tale ........ 106 

Look Up 109 

Take a Day Off no 

Do Not Wait in 

My Platform 113 

Get Off the FencQ 114 

Tell the Truth 116 

Cheerfulness . . . . . . . -117 

Pessimism . . . . . . . .118 



Chips and Whetstones. 



TWENTY LINES. 

What seems to me the happiest hour 

That comes in all the passing year, 
Is when the first unfolding flow'r 

Uplifts its lovely head to hear 
The sweet voice of the first bluebird 
Speak to its love the marriage word. 
With bill to bill and breast to breast 

They speak in accents low and sweet; 
They twitter and their love's confessed 

In words I never can repeat. 
Whether or not they understand, 
They have obeyed love's best command. 
Who shows the bluebird how to find 
A happy mate among its kind. 
Will show us, in our race of life. 
How, when, and where to find a wife. 
Two should not sail the sea of love 
Without assurance from above 
That Heaven moved them both to start 
By putting love within their heart. 
1 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE VOICE OF NATURE. 

The voice of nature, 
Like the music of the spheres, 
Strikes not carnal ears; 
To them it doth ne'er impart 
The peace that fills the heart 

With rapture and with joy. 

Only those who love her. 
Only those who seek her face 
For her smiles of grace, 
Hear her melodious voice, 
Or can truly rejoice 

In her gracious presence. 

Sweet voice of nature, 
Come thou oft to cheer my heart; 
Charms of peace impart 
While I wait to learn of thee 
Blest notes of harmony 

To cheer my lifeless songs. 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



TOO EARLY. 

Lovely flowers peeping 
From their little beds, 
Covered up their heads 

And again are sleeping. 

The warm sunshine wokq them 
Ere the snows all fell, 
Woke each from his cell, 

Breathing life into him. 

But Winter's cold, cold breath 
Returned like\ a thief, 
And biting each leaf 

Again chilled them to death. 

Sleep on little flowers, 
Sleep, sleep on, I say. 
Till some brighter day 

Doth bring you milder hours. 

Lo, then in beauty rare, 
With a shining face 
Wake ye from your place 

And breathe a living air. 
3 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



HIS APOLOGY. 

You told me once to write in prose, 
Your own description to design, 

But to describe the fairest rose 
In the dull, prosaic line, 

Would be a task too great for me; 

For a description fair of thee 

First must come from the muse's lyre 

In tongues of celestial fire. 

Consider how the flowers look 

When Spring's entrancing morn uplifts 
Their fairy faces by the brook, 

The wayside, fences, and the cliffs. 
And thou shalt have a portrait fair 
As chanted on the muse's lyre. 
Now could I give thee this design 
In the dull, prosaic line? 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUND. 

If you will peep with me upon the happy hunting 

ground, 
Hush your spirit into silence eternal and profound; 
For just the moment we enter the forest's blessed 

shade, 
We're in the shadow of the temple God Himself hath 

made. 

Let us pause upon the threshold and list a little 

while, 
The winged word of bee and bird and watch the 

golden smile 
Of sunshine stealing through the windows of the 

temple fair, 
To caress the fairy maidens with its effulgent glare. 

While we peer in silent wonder from this delightful 
place, 

We behold the brightest sunbeams like sprightly fair- 
ies chase 

The darkest shadows 'cross the mountains with their 
golden sheen, 

5 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And paint in fairest colors the most enrapturing 
scene. 

Tbere the stalwart elk is nibbling the herbage good 

and sweet, 
And the eager bear stands wondering in his safe 

retreat ; 
The hungry wolf, wearing a sneaking look upon his 

face, 
Steals forth to pounce upon the carcass which his 

nostrils trace. 

Now let us steal a step or two, with hearts pulsating 

low. 
Into a flowery prairie, this forest's portico; 
Turning our eyes once more upon the forest as a 

whole. 
And then on homeward we may go with an enraptured 

soul. 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



A SNOW-STORM. 

The beautiful snow is dancing down! 
A moment ago the earth was brown ; 
Now all colors have faded from sight, 
And the whole great land is pure and white. 

White plasters stick to the naked trees, 

And icy mantles begin* to freeze 

On giant elm and majestic oak, 

Soon clothing eacb with a jeweled cloak. 

I wonder if the angels of light 
Are not pruning their pinions of white 
When snow-flakes come down from above,- 
It may be they are drops of their love. 

O the beautiful, beautiful snow! 
While I sit and watch you come and go. 
Thy freedom I almost envy thee 
And wish my spirit could be as free. 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE VOYAGE OF LIFE. 

Some when starting have a notion 
They can cross life's mighty ocean 
And safely anchor on the main 
Without a struggle or a pain. 

But when a soul like this is found, 
It never fails to run aground ; 
For there is labor, there is strife. 
Connected with each human life. 

'Tis well for us,, as we set out. 
To have a knowledge of the route; 
And what I think we all should do, 
Is e'er to keep an aim in view. 

If we will' look before we leap, 
Our pledge and honor we may keep; 
But if we leap before we look, 
We may get caught upon the hook. 

'Thou wilt show me the path of life," 
The Psalmist thought, while in the strife; 
And from the time we make our start, 
8 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

We should trust God with all the heart. 

I firmly think we ought to give 
More earnest heed to how we live ; 
Let it be our chief endeavor, 
To prepare to live forever. 

Pure religion and undefiled 
Is a religion meek and mild; 
The soul of man it purifies, 
The life of man it beautifies. 

Life is full of heav'nly beauty, 
Only when in paths of duty; 
And if our lives are made sublime, 
Many a height remains to climb. 

All things of pleasure on life's sea 
To duty sacrificed should be; 
This do with all thy soul and brain, 
And to the highest you'll attain. 

On this one thing we all agree. 

That it is of necessity 

For us to evermore observe 

God's law, and from it never swerve. 

Though charity begins at home, 
9 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

She loves the whole great world to roam ; 
She seeketh not her own, doth find 
And lend her help to all mankind. 

Faith and hope do not discover 
What is needed by another; 
They cannot sympathize with grief, 
Nor can they lend a sweet relief. 

Yea, love doth triumph and prevail 
Where hope and faith forever fail; 
To her alone the wings are giv'n 
Wherewith we all must fly to heav'n. 

Finally, I've concluded this: 
That they attain to greatest bliss 
Who build their lives on piety 
And practice deeds of charity. 



10 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



DEAR YOUTH OF MY COUNTRY. 

Dear youth of my country, be great! 

Because thy God did not create 

A noble soul like thine to bei 

A lowly dragging entity. 

O set thy hope among the stars, 

Fearing not battles nor the scars! 

If thou dost hope to carve thy name 
Upon the monument of fame, 
With bards, with sages, and good men, 
Avoid the nets and snares of sin; 
And through the passing of thy youth, 
Drink thou deep from the well of truth. 

Seek thou the gold tried in the fire, 
And not the paltry pelf of hire, 
The stuff that eats the soul threadbare, 
The millions of the millionaire; 
But seek to lift a fallen race 
To a higher and better place. 

Life's noblest battles you may win 
By uplifting your fellowmen; 
U 



CHIPS AFD WHETSTONES. 

Only the good that you may do 
Will ope the gates of life to you; 
Only the souls that you may save 
Will deck your crown beyond the grave. 

Dear youth of my country, be just! — 
Worthy of honor and of trust: 
Believe my doctrine when I say 
True fame lies in the narrow way; 
Believe me just when I confess 
That doing right is true success. 

Then measure not success in pelf, 
Measure it by the man himself, 
By what he is, not what he's made 
By dint of labor or of trade; 
For deceived is he, young or old, 
Who thinks success is yellow gold. 

O hope forever to succeed! 
O hope to see thy smallest deed 
In time become the greatest good, 
Since there's the strongest likelihood 
For one that hath such hope and trust 
To be successful, great and just! 



12 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



FOREST SCENE. 

Here in this sunlit sylvan wild 
Where God hath reared his wildest child, 
Where He hath put eternal lore 
To break the silence evermore, 
Earth's fairest beauties float to me 
Like lifeboats o'er a quiet sea. 

I am sitting by a fountain 
In the shadow of a mountain. 
Where a stream is murmuring by, 
Reflecting pictures of the sky. ' 
This skillful artist, day by day. 
Is making pictures on its way. 

On my right is a bubbling spring 
Where muses oft are wont to sing. 
And tell their stories old and new. 
While the moonbeams and falling dew 
Are dancing o'er the woody hills, 
To the song of the rippling rills. 

Around a bush there intertwines 
A massive heap of leafy vines, 
13 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Wihich, bending round into a ring, 
Hang out above the crystal spring; 
And there so snugly knit together, 
Shade the spring in sultry weather 

Beneath, wild flowers bud and bloom, 
And spread a sweet and rich perfume 
Throughout the forest old and gray, 
Making glad the wearisome day 
To creatures in their stern pursuits. 
The toiling insects, fowls, and brutes. 

Among these flowers, bees and birds 
Are sending up their winged words 
To God, before whose watchful eye 
A single creature cannot die. 
Whether on land, in sea, or air, 
Without His notice and His care. 

On my left is a rugged steep, 
And at its base a large round heap 
Of huge stones, piled up, it is said, 
As a home for the honored dead; 
And there) are found about this place, 
The relics of an ancient race. 

Cedars and laurels ever green 
Are scattered o'er this sacred scene, 
14 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Once making for the deer and bear 
Many a snug and cozy lair; 
And always to this rock-ribbed steep, 
They made their way to rest and sleep. 

Here in this forest temple's shrine 
Come birds and beasts to drink and dine ; 
He who prepared this feast and hall, 
Invites His creatures great and small 
To gather round His table wide 
And eat till they are satisfied. 



WINTER'S COMING. 

Lo ! the bees no more are humming. 
Winter's coming, Winter's coming; 
With staff in hand his step is heard, 
He wears a long and frosty beard. 

Prepare to meet this ancient guest, 
Who's coming, coming, gayly drest; 
Throughout the country he shall go 
To coat it o'er with ice and snow. 

The trees disrobed by Autumn's hand 
Ice^clad will be at his command ; 
15 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Th© forests dismantled and bare 
He'll clothe again with garments rare. 

The seeds dropt down by Autumn's frost 

One must not think forever lost; 

For to a new and happy birth 

They shall return from out the earth. 

In sacred peace they slumber there, 
Without a sorrow or a care ; 
And keep within them latent power 
To wake in Spring a plant or flower. 

Winter's coming! the warning hear, 
For he is coming, coming near; 
Feelest thou not his cold, cold breath, 
Blowing upon thee frosts of death? 

Soon we shall rest until our King 
Shall call us where perpetual spring 
Will turn into eternal flow'rs 
These sad and weary souls of ours. 



16 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



AUTUMN. 

It is Autumn! and the dismantled trees, 

Like skeletons with arms outstretched and bare, 

Look ghostly and forsaken. Under their 

Naked forms sleep in solitude serene 

Tea thousand sylvan darlings, pillowed there 

In sweet repose upon their mother's breast. 

Up in the blue sky are coming others 

Clad in all the colors of heaven's bow, 

Tinted divinely strange and beautiful 

And appearing altogether lovely. 

Ingathered sweethearts, whose children are ye? 

From what clime have ye come with your dazzling 

Accoutrements of golden drapery? 

Tell me whose magic hand has touched the hem 

Of your garments, leaving upon them tints 

And splendors of a myriad sunsets. 

Why have ye kept the best until the last, 

The loveliest of your robes to die in? 

Peace be unto you! and may your repose 

Be full of sweet dreams and pleasant musings. 

The flowers! where are they? Death, the reaper, 
Hath diffused throughout the earth their odors 

17 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

To embalm the frames of those he cherished 
For elysiums of immortal bliss. 

Earth! thou endless source of entities, 
Welcome again thy beloved offspring! 

1 cannot contemplate the fate of these 
Darling children of thine without feeling 
My own life is soon to have an autumn 
That shall crumble its temple back to dust. 

My soul ! O my soul ! take now thy warning, 

For shortly thou must leave this earthly house 

And in sad widowhood plod wearily 

Thy rugged way into the great beyond. 

Already a thousand spirit-fingers 

Point steadily to thy sure destiny: 

While the autumn sheds its solemn warnings 

Take heed to disrobe thyself of follies, 

Lest the one inevitable summons 

Find not upon thee the wedding garment. 



18 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



NEW YEAR GREETING. 

Greet the blessed New Year! 
Let all the people shout for joy; 
Let nature all her songs employ 
To dispel the gloom and fear 
Of the old departing year. 

Let Peace reign ev'rywhere! 
May the high hills and rivers long 
Echo Joy's enrapturing song, 
Till the ocean and the sea 
Join the New Year jubilee. 

Ring the bells of welcome! 
Turn the old year's sorrow away ; 
Enjoy the blessed New Year day, 
Father, mother, daughter, son, 
Rich, poor, and everyone. 

Be glad all through the year; 
Look for pleasure and not for pain ; 
Count not your losses but your gain 
Heaven lies about that soul 
That strives for a brighter goal. 
19 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Happy New Year to all! 
Blessed nineteen hundred four! 
Its glad birthday will come no more; 
Therefore use each moment giv'n, 
Laying treasures up in Heav'n. 

Remember, O remember, 
That the year, like a tale that is told, 
Changes from the new to the old. 
Thus thy life will change ere thou 
Canst consider why or how. 

Keep thyself ever pure; 
Watch and lay hold upon the truth, 
For age will swallow up thy youth. 
As night in her subtle way 
Swallows up the youthful day. 



20 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



SONG OF THE REDEEMER. 
A Christmas Poem. 

There blossomed in heaven a star, 
Most beautiful and strange to see, 

Which led the Wise Men from afar 
To find the Babe of Galilee. 

O'er humble Bethlehem it shone, 
Bearing a message in each ray ; 

And it showed the Wise Men alone 
Where Christ, the infant Savior, lay. 

The shepherds who kept watch by night 
O'er their flocks on the hills near by, 

Beheld the star so strangely bright 
Pouring its glory through the sky. 

Then suddenly the firmament 
Was filled with the angelic host 

That sang of the humble advent 
Of the child of the Holy Ghost. 

"Good will to men and peace on earth," 
Was the theme of the song they sung; 
21 



CHIPS AM 



A Star of z.zt r.ih 
To guide the I--.i: 

Azi iH tbe gre; :- 
Has been gjc. : : 

The holy babe vaxe : 

And made the l£~> : 
He r; t : e Wind a;: 



-■VJU l-^Cii 



All gloiy to this Prince of Peace. 

Who g^ve his life to make men free ; 
May ev'ry soul find sweet release 

In tills ZTzi: y in of Galflee. 

Behold : i: : ; - O -aravwanl son, 

Winer ^ : t -e distant bine; 

Br" 't ■ ::_':t " t;~' :s ran, 
^ : :i g-: rrsisn^^re yon! 



22 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



INFLORESCENCE. 

Greener grows the plant ev'ry day, 

Fairer and lovelier the flow'r, 
Until the season of decay, 
Puts them at the appointed hour. 
In their little graves to adorn, 
The ensuing Spring's happy morn. 

Brighter grows the soul of the child. 
Lovelier and fairer its face. 

While the season of life is mild, 
Saturated with love and grace; 
But fainter grows ev'ry head, 
Approaching the home of the dead. 

A season of growth and decay 

Hath ev'ry creature small and great; 
Each commences to pass away 

When it has reached a certain state ; 
If in youth to improve we fail. 
In old age we shall weep and wail. 

Youth is the season to implant 

True purpose, principle, and thought 
In the soul; for 'mong thorns you can't 
23 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Expect precious seed to come fraught, 
Either with fruit or with flower, 
In the zenith of manhood's hour. 

Not unlike the flowers that bloom 

On the morn of a bright spring day, 
Is the soul, bursting from the gloom 
Of direful darkness and decay. 

Then free thyself from sin and strife. 
Immortal soul, thou bud of life. 

Take to thy trust new treasures, 

Before thy God shall call thee hom'e; 
Feast on life's refining pleasures. 
Before some stake or marble dome 
By friends is anchored in the ground, 
To) mark thy temple's sacred mound. 

O perennial bud of bliss! 

Unless thou bloomest 'neath the sky, 
A far more dismal world than this 
Shall swallow up thy destiny; 

But if full-blown this side the tomb. 
In Heaven's garden thou shalt bloom. 



24 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



CHRIST AND NICODEMUS. 

N. 

Master, I know that thou art from above, 
For none can do such miracles of love, 
Unless in him Almighty God doth dwell. 
And in Him, through Him, works each miracle. 



Verily, verily, I say to thee, 

Ye must be born again, which change must be; 

And marvel not at what I havei to state. 

For on this birth doth hang each mortal's fate. 

N. 

How can a man bei born when he is old? 
This mystery, dear Master, please unfold. 
Must he go back into his mother's womb, 
And into life again be made to bloom? 

C. 

That which is born of flesh is flesh still; 
The new birth requirement it doth not fill; 
Of the Spirit, I say, ye must be bom, 

25 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

So marvel not, but fear my words to scorn. 

Verily the wind where it listeth blows, 

But whence it cometh or whither it goes 

Thou knowest not, though thou canst feel and hear it, 

So is he that is born of the Spirit. 

N. 
How can these things be? Being born again? 
Is that being saved from a life of sin? 
Being born of the Spirit, does this mean 
That God enters the soul and makes it clean? 

C. 

Being a master of Israel, thou, 
O Nicodemus, shouldst have known just how 
A soul is made anew in God's kingdom; 
Hast thou never yet possessed this wisdom? 

If I have told you earthly things and you 
Believed me not to be a teacher, true. 
How shall you believe when I have given 
You all the secrets of God and heaven? 

God so loved the world that He gave his Son, 
To suffer and die for everyone; 
And who in Him believes and doth confide. 
Is born of God! and may in Him abide. 

26 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



COME HOME. 

Onoe more my dear Redeemer 
Is calling me come home; 

Many a time He's called me, 
But from Him still I roam. 

I feel the Holy Spirit 
My sinful soul reprove; 

Evermore I hear His voice, 
But still refuse to move. 

Suppose I do not heed Him, 
And keep the downward way 

Till this short life is ended 
And comes the Judgment Day; 

What can I expect from Him, 
Who shed His blood for me. 

When I'm called before His throne 
In great eternity? 

Even if I meant to change 
Before my race was run, 

I must take the sinner's part 
For leaving it undone. 
27 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Good intentions will not count. 
Nor shall the tears one wipes; 

Knowing how and doing not 
Shall purchase many stripes. 



CONSECRATION. 



Dear Saviour, I would follow Thee 
In true sincerity; 

In all my thoughts and all my ways 
My soul would give Thee praise. 

To selfish motives I would die; 
Lord, help me to deny 
Myself, and ever follow Thee 
In true humility. 

Follow Thee in self-denial, 
Follow Thee in trial; 
In not seeking reputation, 
But in consecration. 

Be it my cross to sacrifice. 
All that within me lies — 
My life, my strength, my liberty, 
All for Thee, all for Thee. 
28 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE LOVE OF GOD. 

O the boundless love of God, 
How it findeth out our souls! 

Though black as sin can make us, 
Yet toward us still it rolls. 

Like the joyous crystal stream 
That courses down the mountain, 

It ever runneth to us. 
An everlasting fountain. 

O the boundlessi love of God, 
How dear its power to me! 

It keeps running through my soul 
With a current full and free. 

While I tread life's rugged way. 

All I hope or ask to be. 
Is that God's unbounded love 

May forever flow through me. 



29 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THANKSGIVING PSALM. 

O give thanks unto the Lord! 

'Tis a day of thanksgiving, 
In which to count our blessings, 

And praise Him we are living. 

Go not blindly on your way, 
As though led by chance or fate 

Offer up your thanks to-day — 
To-morrow may be too late. 

Remember your Creator, 

In most grateful thanksgiving; 

Make His path straight before you 
By pure and upright living. 

Let your heart be full of praise 
For His many gracious gifts; 

The soul that remembers God 
Is the soul that He uplifts 



30 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



REFLECTIONS ON A SKULL. 

This bleaching death's-head lying here alone, 

This cavity of fast-decaying bone, 

So horrid, so frightful to passers-by. 

Once wore the brightest jewel 'neath the sky. 

Behold it in this strange and sad divorce. 

Emptied of its intellectual force; 

Parted by death from the immortal soul, 

Whose powers shook the earth from pole to pole. 

Once priceless, now valueless as a stone 
That can do naught but lie for aye alone; 
Lie undiscovered, in some howling waste. 
Delighting no one, exiled and disgraced. 

O horrid chamber! Where is thy inmate? 
Disclose to me the secrets of thy state. 
Whither, whither, did thine occupant fly? 
Ah, tell m© what has been his destiny! 

Will he return, his temple to restore? 
Or has he parted from thee evermore? 
Parted like a poor exile from his home, 
Eternally to wander and to roam? 

31 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Alas! I look into thy hollow eyes 
With amazement, wonderment, and surprise; 
Those broken windows of the soul, so bare, 
Give evidence that no one dwelleth there. 

When I see a house whose doors are torn down. 
Whose windows are shattered, the walls turned brown. 
Whose chimney has fallen, the roof caved in, 
I'm pierced by feelings of sadness within. 

And if there's a time when I'm robbed of bliss. 
It is when I behold a sight like this; 
For I know that my own dear house of clay. 
Will soon be ruined and crumbled away. 

Then, my poor soul, where, O where shall it be? 
Shall it sit and grieve over the debris 
Of its cherished home, or wander away 
To find another house in which to stay? 

It matters not to me ; I am content 

Whate'er may become of this tenement; 

He who raised Himself from the grave's embrace. 

Will build me again in a better place. 



32 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



PERSEVERE. 

Out of the mire be lifted 
To walk in God's highway; 

Let the seeds of sin be sifted 
Out of thy soul to-day. 

Go, go on, climb higher, 
Get full of holy fire; 
Full of wisdom from above, 
Full of God and full of love. 

Yea, then pursue thy way. 

Upward pursue it still. 
Leaving signals in the vale. 

And footprints up the hill. 

Perchance somte , way ward brother, 
By you guided to the goal. 

May help to lead another 
To the haven of the soul. 

O my brother, persevere! 
In each struggle God is near; 
Strength will come as you progress- 
Perseverance brings happiness. 
33 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THY WILL BE DONE. 

Thyi will be done, O Lord, 

Incline me to the right; 
May Thy blessed, holy word 

E'er be my chief delight. 

Thou hast planned the way for me, 
Which way I must not lose ; 

'Twas Thine to plan, mine to be 
Wliatever I shall choose. 

I would make Thy will my choice, 
And give myself to Thee; 

May I evermore rejoice, 

For Thou hast made me free. 




34 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



SEEKING FOR JESUS. 

I'm seeking for Jesus, 
Seeking His love, 

Seeking the Saviour, 
The Lord from above. 

I'm seeking to know Him, 

Seeking for rest, 
Seeking to live in a home 

Ever blest. 

I'm seeking for Jesus, 
Seeking His grace, 

Seeking a smile from His 
Glorious face. 

I'm seeking for Jesus, 
Seeking His peace, 

Seeking for pardon. 
And seeking release. 

I'm seeking for Jesus, 
(Lord, Thou art near), 

Seeking my Saviour 
And, lo, He is here. 
35 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

To all who seek Jesus, 
Believe this true, 

As sure as is Heaven, 
Jesus seeks you. 

To seek and to save. 
That is why He came; 

Doubt not His mission, 
But trust in His name. 

This life's happiest hour, 

You will agree, 
When Jesus is yours, 

And you are set free. 



SWEAR NOT AT ALL. 

Swear not at all; 
To use God's holy name in vain 
Will bring thee neither good nor gain. 

Nor show thee wise 

In people's eyes. 

Swear not at all; 
God is thy Father; to profane 
His holy name must give Him pain; 
36 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

His great heart aches 
At such mistakes. 



Swear not at all; 
For in so doing thou shalt curse 
Thy mission in this universe; 

Divine decree 

Condemneth thee. 

Swear not at all; 
For as sure as Jehovah reigns, 
Each oath will bring a million pains; 

Each wasted breath 

Adds stings to death. 

Swear not at all; 
But let thy thoughts bq pure always, 
Thine ev'ry word a word of praise; 
For all we say 
Comes back some day. 



37 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE GREAT DISCOVERY. 

'Twas many long, long centuries ago, 
(The people of God are supposed to know). 
Some workmen sent out at a king's command. 
Made the discov'ry in a distant land. 

In the time-worn wall of a temple old, 
Something they found more valuable than gold; 
And with great fear and amazement did bring 
Their thrice holy findi in haste to the king. 

Wihen the king read' it, his mantle he rent, 
And fell down in dust his sins to repent; 
Then lifting his head, he said with a nod, 
"This is the Law of the Children of God." 

So long had this Law been hidden from men 
That many were lost in darkness and sin ; 
Even the children once full of its light 
Had almost forgotten how to do right. 

The race of the prophets whose faith so true 
Brought down on their heads the heavenly dew. 
Was all but gone from the face of the globe, 
38 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And many false ones were claiming their robe. 

Hidden from all eyes, and barred from all hearts, 
Was the blessed truth which the Bible imparts; 
And while in the temple was lost this book, 
Mlost of its teachings the people forsook. 

Like the rising sun on a frozen world 
Was the truth of God when again unfurled; 
And from the holy hills our fathers trod 
Did thunder once more^ the statutes of God. 

Glory to God for His most holy word ! 
Although the wicked have long interfered, 
Still it keeps preaching the gospel of truth, 
With more force now than it did in its youth. 

Down through the ages may its echoes roll 
The waves of peace to each sorrowing soul; 
Bridging death's river, so cold and so wide, 
And anchoring our hopes on Heaven's side. 



39 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE WELL IS DEEP. 

"The well is deep, 
And thou hast naught with which to draw; 

To give me drink 
Thou must o'ercome stern nature's law. 

Art thou greater 
Than our father Jacob, who gave 

To us this well? 
Who long hath been within his grave?" 

The Christ replied: 
"If thou hadst asked a drink of me, 

I should have giv'n 
That living water unto thee, 

Which, springing up 
Within thy soul, should cleanse from sin 

And mortal shame. 
And make thee ne'er to thirst again." 

"Then evermore 
Give me this water to receive. 

That it may be 
Aa thou hast said and I believe. 

Thou who hast read 
The secrets written in my heart, 
40 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

At thy command 
Canst surely any gift impart." 

Life's well is deep ; 
And in its mystic depths there lie 

Secrets dimmer 
Than distant stars within the sky, — 

Secrets deeper 
Than mortal man while under earthly law, 

Plan how he may, 
Can ever learn to solve or draw. 

The well is deep; 
Why try to draw the truth with naught? 

Search the Scriptures ; 
In them the way of life is taught. 

Christ the Saviour 
Has opened up a fountain free, 

A living stream 
To cleanse all those who will to be. 

Be cleansed to-day; 
Wait thou no longer at the brink; 

Step in, step in; 
While troubled the waters are, drink 

The only cure. 
Another day may be too' late. 

Another day 
MJay close for aye salvation's gate. 
41 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



A SOLDIER'S DREAM. 

All day long had the dreadful battle's roar, 
Crossed the high hills and echoed on the shore; 
All day long guns had thundered shell and lead, 
And many were the dying and the dead. 

When stars began to deck the distant blue 
And beam upon the grass now wet with dew, 
One poor soldier, wounded and dying, lay 
Dreaming this dream in the dreariest way: 

"Once a babe in a goodly mother's care, 

A mother kissed these cheeks and called them fair; 

Laid this decaying head against her own, 

But now in silent death it lies alone. 

"Alas ! my mother death's cold river crossed 

When word was brought her that her son was lost; 

That mother's love I never can forget, 

For though I'm dead, it lingers round me yet. 

"O passers-by! hear thou my silent plea. 
And kindly take what now remains of me. 
To the spot where my mother's form doth rest, 

42 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And place again this head upon her breast. 

"The narrow home will not oppress us then, 
Because love will mingle with love therein; 
And when we hear the trumpet's final blast 
We'll feel as though a single night has passed. 



TO A FRIEND. 



Learn toi love all things, 

And all things will love thee; 

Strive to do some good 
For all humanity. 

God bless thee is the prayer. 
Of this thy humble friend; 

One who hopes to meet thee. 
Where friendships never end. 



43 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



SONG OF A SQUIRREL. 

Long ago a little squirrel 

In a tiny coat of gray, 
Thought to go and hunt his dinner 

When it came the time of day. 

Now he lived within the forest 

Where the trees were great and tall; 
And the hick'ry nuts and acorns, 

Oh, the myriads that Fall! 

So he started on his journey. 
Which was not a journey great, 

To a tree of hickory nuts, 
Where he often went and ate. 

As he bounded 'mong the branches, 
Shaking limbs and breaking twigs, 

He saw below a motley gang 
Of poor hungry little pigs. 

They were crying for their mother, 
Who had left them there asleep, 
44 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And gone forth to seek provision 
In the forest great and deep. 

'Twas the squirrel that had woke them 

From their slumbers into cries. 
And soon came the frightened mother 

With much terror in her eyes. 

He was frightened at her coming, 
And forth scampered on his way, 

Keeping close among the branches 
To conceal his coat of gray. 

Up and on and down and over 

Limbs and branches quick but still, 

Went he on his eager journey 
Round the bosom of the hill. 

"Whet! whet!" and down came broken shells 

Striking on the branches bent. 
For high upon a limb he sat, 

Eating to his heart's content. 

"Safe! safe!" he thought, "who can harm me? 

Who is he that hath the art?" 
Then, alas! the hunter's bullet 

Passed like lightning through his heart. 
45 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

All ye who would of safety boast, 
Take warning from this story. 

For daggers of disease and death 
May strike you in your glory. 



THE RESURRECTION. 

Think not thyself a house of clay, 
That stands awhile, then fades away: 
Fades forever and lies in guilt, 
To never, never be rebuilt. 

Thy outward man is but the shrine 
Of that immortal soul of thine; 
And God has destined it to be. 
Thy temple through eternity. 

Although it crumble back to dust, 
There let it rest in hope and trust; 
For though it waste within the tomb. 
Yet high in heaven/ i*t shall bloom. 

And if it pass long widowhood 
In some waste field or howling wood. 
Its ears of dust within the mound 
46 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Shall hear the final trumpet sound. 

Lo, then in newness it shall rise, 
And take its flight beyond the skies; 
To be a temiple bright and whole, 
The home eternal of the soul. 



THE SOUL. 

That spark of eternal mind, 
That soul that dwells in nie. 

Is the same enduring kind 
As God Himself must be. 

In His image am I wrought, 
This very soul of mine; 

I'm th© product of His thought, 
A thing to grow divine. 

O Thou great Jehovah, save 
My soul, for which Christ died! 

In blest newness I would live 
A creature glorified. 

Help me to improve each hour, 
And make my calling sure; 

To grow better day by day, 
Until my soul is pure. 
47 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



A ..SOUTHERN BELLE. 

In the South I knew a maiden, 

Who was very, very fair. 
And black as the blackest raven 

Was this handsome maiden's hair. 

Attractive as the sun in heaven, 
As he smiles upon this world. 

Was this maid of ten and seven, 

When her hair was crimped and curled. 

Her jet-black eyes sparkled bright. 
Like two big stars peeping through 

The sable veil of darkest night 
Upon the silvery dew. 

So winsome was this Southern maid 
That all sorrow and despair 

Ran from her as the darkest shade 
Runs from puffs of sunlit air. 

Never could my heart be laden 
With a load of toil and care, 
When about this cheerful maiden, 
48 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

For entrancing joy was there. 

I met her at a coterie, 

Robed in finest silk and lace; 
And never, never did I see 

Smiles so sweet upon one's face. 

She took a hand in ev'ry game. 
Doing ev'ry time her part; 

And securely wrote her name 
In the longings of my heart. 

In all her graceful procession 
She did touch my inner life; 

And to make a full confession, 
I did woo her for a wife. 

I wooed her and I won her 
At this splendid coterie; 

And we made a cov'nant here 
To endure eternally. 

No man -e'er has put asunder, 

I am truly glad to say. 
What God has put together. 

In His mysterious way. 



49 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE GREAT BEYOND. 

Away, away, away we go! 

Bound for somewhere is all we know; 

Beyond away, away still goes, 

And, who on earth his own way knows? 

Away beyond, beyond away. 
Beyond ^ is still beyond, they say; 
On beyond we still discover, 
Some beyond beyond another. 

Above, below, and all around, 
We find beyonds we cannot bound; 
And what we see but makes us fond 
Of thinking what is still beyond. 

Away beyond, somewhere^ in space, 
The Great Beyond must have a place, 
Where all beyonds together blend 
And all aways forever end. 

A source, a center this must be. 
The temple of eternity; 
Where bends the throne that ne'er shall fall 
50 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And sits the one great God of all. 

Here is that eternal ocean, 
From whose bosom life and motion, 
Dipped and poured from God's own urn, 
Flow far away and then return. 

Like drops that leave the briny deep, 
On vapor-wings to make their leap 
To earth, from cloud-land isles high up. 
So drop we from the sacred cup. 

The sea of life we mortals sail, 
Will bear us back within the vale 
Of that beyond from which we came 
Rolling through empyreal flame. 

Lo! to that Beyond have fled 
The immortal souls of the dead; 
Gone to visit their own first home. 
The new heaven and earth to roam. 

O blessed Source! O happy thought! 
With blissful comfort thou art fraught; 
Our spirits, too, shall take their flight, 
Through thy blest portals fair and bright. 

Then backward through the mist of years 
51 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Our eyes may turn, but not through tears; 

For this life's course and rugged trace 

We shall not grieve from that bright place. 

Perhaps a thread of gold may be 
Stretched far across life's stormy sea 
To warn us ne'er to go again 
Backward toward the realms of sin. 

Unbounded sea! unbounded space! 
What lies beyond this little place 
Where tread we mortal creatures blind, 
A richer spot in thee to find? 

Tell me, ye stars and glowing sun, 
Where doth dwell the Eternal One, 
Who fashioned you and threw you out 
To guide the living here about? 

Ye brilliant worlds! ye shining globes! 
Lay ye aside your golden robes; 
Claim not the palace nor the shrine 
Of the Eternal and Divine. 

The Universe itself proclaims 
That over all Jehovah reigns; 
In all, through all. He moves and lives, 
52 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And to all life and being gives. 

But be this true, He hath a place, 
Somewhere fixed far out in space; 
The Sanctum Sanctorum is this. 
The Palace of Eternal Bliss. 

Herein His court and miansion are, 
His judgment seat, His judgment bar; 
And at this bar He doth dispense 
To one and all just recompense. 

The king who has his great domain, 
O'er all of it doth rule and reign; 
Yet somewhere fixed within its bound, 
His throne and palace can be found. 

Just so with God, Who rules all space; 
He hath His own abiding place ; 
Heaven's pure ethereal air 
Contains His throne and palace fair. 

Eternal city, O so bright! 
Within thy walls is found no night; 
And behind thy pearly portals 
There do dwell the blest immortals. 

Holy of Holies, full of love! 
53 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Metropolis of the above! 

Jesus shall ope thy pearly gates 

To paupers as to potentates. 

But all that enter must be true, 
Washed and cleansed with heavenly dew; 
Truly must they be born again, 
Purged from every trace of sin. 

Unseen, eternal Great Beyond, 
To think of thee I am still fond; 
Because the mansion house is there, 
Which through my Saviour I shall heir. 

Ev'ry step I take toward thee, 
And ev'ry wave on this life's sea, 
But brings me closer to the goal 
Of my immortal, God-like soul. 

Yea, soon the haven shall appear 
Beyond the dark, the sad, the drear; 
And I shall reach that happy spot, 
Where evil things shall be forgot. 

O blessed thought! O happy hours! 
O world of never-fading flow'rs! 
So deep with diamonds, deep with gold. 
Thy full fruition is untold. 
54 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



PARADISE. 

Fair as never-fading flowers, 

Was Mother Earth in her first hours; 

Untouched by death or dire decay 

Was she on that illustr'ous day, 

When God pronounced her good, with all 

His new-made creatures great and small. 

She, like a holy queen of bliss. 
Had nothing lost or gone amiss; 
When man first kissed her rosy cheek. 
She had no rock-ribbed mountains bleak; 
For all the rocks were 'neath her mold. 
And served as coffers for her gold. 

God made her fair and very fair. 
And her sweet breath, the sunlit air. 
Did not rage in furious storm 
To mar her rare and lovely form; 
Nor did the sun pour down his rays 
So hot upon her, in those days. 

No scars by old Apollo cut. 
No cabin dark, nor smoky hut 
Was then upon her noble breast; 
55 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

For man and beast lay down to rest 
Side by side in the forest wild, 
Calmed to repose by breezes mild. 

Sweet-voiced birds among the bowers 
And sweet bees within the flowers 
Sang all the little babes to sleep 
And o'er themi vigils e'er did keep, 
While good old father took repose 
And our dear mother plucked the rose. 

The great deep forest was their home 
And beneath its majestic dome 
Were stored provisions rich and rare, 
On mountains, hills, and ev'rywhere; 
And when was gone the food in store, 
God always gave them plenty more. 

Lo, all was perfect, all was free. 
Excepting just one little tree; 
The Lord reserved this as His own. 
Bade His children to let it alone; 
For, though its fruit they did enjoy, 
It surely would their lives destroy. 

A stranger came, his face was fair. 
To the children he did declare 
That God had told to them a lie, 
56 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

When He announced that they should die; 
That he was jealous lest the tree 
Make them to be as wise as He. 

The foolish children were deceived, 
And their Father was greatly grieved 
To shut them out of Paradise 
For taking the stranger's advice; 
But by this single act of shame 
Strangers also themselves became. 

Lone pilgrims in a foreign land, 

Bound, they knew not where, a ruined band; 

God loved them still, but for their sin 

He could not bring them back again. 

Till His beloved. Son Himself agreed 

To suffer for their wicked deed. 



FARE THEE WELL. 

Fare thee well! — the words that sever 
Fondest hopes and ties forever. 
They rend the heart and craze the brain, 
They fill us with undying pain. 
Fare thee well! who ever said it 
When he did not feel and dread it? 
57 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



ODE TO YOUTH. 

O glorious springtime of life! 

Blessed morning of existence! 
Be slow in passing; 
Bless me all the while 
With thrills of freshness, 

And let the bloom of sweet peace 

Unfold within my breast forevermore. 

Ere Age shall write upon my brow 
The wrinkles of ponderous care, 

And 'entwine my head 

With locks all hoary. 

May life's vital spark 
Glow with immortal purity, 
And seeds of glory in my soul be growing. 

Author of perpetual youth, 
Remember me, remember me; 

Pour upon my soul 

Rain of peace and love 

And joy and sunshine. 
That I may learn to be like Him 
Whom Thou didst send to be our pattern. 

May I grow younger day by day, 
58 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Younger, stronger, purer, better, 

Born of the Spirit 

To youth immortal. 

Offering, giving) 
These fleeting years as hostages 
To the Author of Life Eternal. 

O gracious Father, bless our race 
With this same life and lasting youth ! 

The blessings I have 

Asked upon myself 

Bounteously pour 
Upon my fallen fellow men, 
For whom Thine only Son was given. 



59 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



TROUBLE IN SCHOOL TO-DAY. 

We had trouble in school to-day, 
Jack and John, they went out to play; 
And John, he, so Miatilda said, 
Threw an' hit Jack upon the head. 

Then the teacher, he called the two — 
He didn't know what else to do; 
For Jack, he was a-cryin' bad, 
And John, he was a-lookin' mad. 

1 could see from the teacher's eye 
That he would make the feathers fly 
From off John's good-for-nothin' back. 
For his throwin' an' hittin' Jack. 

The kids, they all wanted to see 
Just what the case would turn to be ; 
So they came in, hoppin' about, 
But the teacher, he put 'em out. 

I stayed out, fur I'd hered 'im say 
That us kids must all keep away 
When he had correctin' on hand; 
60 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

But the rest, they didn't understand. 

My! my! sich licks and sich yellin' 
As we all hered — there's no tellin' 
How many times John's triflin' back 
Was pelted for his hittin' Jack. 

Goody! goody! because it's joy 
For me to see him lick a boy 
Like John, who alius loves a fight 
And never learns the rule of right. 

Good old teacher! he's not all talk, 
He's just the man to make 'em walk 
The chalk or any line you please, — 
He'll almost whip 'em when they sneeze. 

Them, Wrights an' Pinkertons have fought, 
At ev'ry school that has been taught; 
And I am glad Professor Thrash 
Will rid our school of all such trash. 

When one teacher just lets 'em go. 
The next 'un has a rugged row; 
If his eye's not keen, and arm strong. 
He'll not hold out to teach 'em long. 

With three things 'Fessor Thrash doth deal, 
61 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And to ''em often doth appeal; 
When soul and honor he has tried, 
He 'peals like lightning to their hide. 



THE POET TO HIS WIFE. 

Dear partner of my life, 

Mjy lover strong and true always, 
My darling patient wife, 

I shall sing to you to-day. 
Your sunny^ face and eyes 

Call in my wandering mind 
From distant orbs and skies. 

I need not soar away 

From earth to fancied worlds above, 
Where angels sing and play 

To imbibe their songs of love; 
For I have found in you 

That which poets long have sought,— 
An inspiration true. 

Content to dwell with me 

In the sunshine and the shadows. 

Always looking happy 

As flow'rs within the meadows; 

Ever ready to serve, 
62 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Ever ready to cheer me, 
And never known to swerve. 

Trusting in you ever, 

Because your trust is fixed in me, 
May we never, never. 

Turn from true sincerity. 
Then blest our lives will be 

And glorious our reward 
In great eternity. 

Into my life you grew, 
As sunshine into a flower; 

The way I never knew. 

But think the same kind Power 

Whose wonder-working art 
Gave the flower its sunshine 

Did put you in my heart. 



63 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



ANGEL OF DEATH. 

Take off your shoes, for where you tread 
Doth sleep in silence, cold and dead, 
Some victim of that awful hand 
Which reaps the life of ev'ry land. 

His sickle is his unseen breath, 
His black name the Angel of Death, 
Who maketh life his only prey. 
And dines ten thousand times a day. 

He steals our lives and takes his flight 
Before our eyes in broad daylight; 
Or when the day is passed and fled. 
He comes to snatch us from our bed. 

Angel of Death! winged terror! 
Wages paid to man for error! 
While thou art reaping, reap thou well, 
But reap and bind no soul for hell. 

Reap. on, thou awful scourge of God! 
Reap on, and place beneath the sod! 
No one that liveth hath a shield 
64 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

To keep thy sickle from the field. 

Reap each mortal, reap each flower, 
Reap and reap with all thy power; 
Keep thou thy banner black unfurled, 
Till thou hast reaped this whole great world. 

Heaven has sent thee forth to reap 
The golden grain of life, and keep 
Thou forever thy sacred trust. 
Because thy reaping, sir, is just. 

Hear my warning, O dread Angel! 
Hear my warning and heed it well; 
Some day Life, who is on thy track. 
Will make thee give her dear ones back. 

Though oft a blessing in disguise. 
Thou shalt come to thine own demise; 
Trembling through the bottomless pit, 
Thy thrice black soul shall ever flit. 



65 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



COMING THROUGH THE LEA. 

A coming through the lea 
I met my dear Laure, 
A singing like a bird, 
The sweetest ever heard, 
A coming through the lea. 

A coming through the lea 
She had some flow'rs for me; 
Some roses fully blown, 
She said they were my own, 
A coming through the lea. 

"O Laure! sweet Laure! 
An angel thou must be!" 
I cried in my delight. 
And she was close in sight, 
A coming through the lea. 

A coming through the lea 
It happened so to be, 
While treading there in bliss, 
That we exchanged a kiss, 
On meeting in the lea. 

A coming through the lea, 
66 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Why did I kiss Laure? 
Because she was my love, 
An angel from above, 
A coming through the lea. 

A coming through the lea, 
Why did Laure kiss me? 
Because I was her love, 
And like a gentle dove 
She kissed me in the lea. 

A coming through the lea. 
Why were myself and she? 
There among the flowers. 
We met to spend some hours 
Of pleasure in the lea. 

A coming through the lea 
She promised me to be 
My own belov6d wife. 
To love me through this life 
And in eternity. 

A coming through the lea 
I promised her to be 
Her husband firm and true. 
The right to always do 
67 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And ever love Laure. 

As coming through the lea 
E'er may our promise be; 
May ever, ever love, 
Sent dow nfrom God above, 
Abide with her and m-e. 

Then coming through a lea 
Eternal shall we be; 
Where flowers fair and sweet, 
For aye beneath our feet. 
Shall bloom for her and me. 



DEATH OF EXPECTATION. 

Alas! my expectation dies; 

She sits no longer in the air, 
For through her patient heart there flies 

The direful dagger of despair. 

On hope I dosed her hour by hour. 
On faith I fed her long and well, 

Yea, on love's own magic power 
I kept her till s>he said farewell. 



68 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



MOTHER. 

Mother, the best friend to me 
That Providence ever gave, 
Is beyond the ocean's wave, 

And I'm left upon the sea. 

It was hard to say goodby 

When our Captain took her soul 
To that bright eternal goal 

Where immortal pleasures lie. 

But since I know all is well, 
I can better bear my grief. 
And I have a sure belief 

That 'twill be our last farewell. 

While I sail upon the sea, 
I shall ever watch and wait 
For the open pearly gate. 

Where she waits to welcome me. 

Thanks to thee, O mother dear. 
For thy life and patient care 
For thy faith and for thy pray'r, 
69 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

For thy love that knew no fear. 

I shall strive to be upright, 
As thyself didst live and teach; 
All the good that's in my reach 

I shall seek with all my might. 

Now goodby just this once more; 
Our parting is not so sad, 
When I stop to think how glad 

Our meeting on that bright shore. 




70 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



LUCIFER. 

O Serpent of Despair! 
Thy breath is in the air, 
Thy shame is on our face, 
Thy sting is in our race. 

You love to tempt mankind. 
To turn us deaf and blind; 
This world is not your home, 
But here you like to roam. 

Under Eden's bowers 
You lay for many hours, 
Plucking pretty bouquets 
To win our Mother's praise. 

Like a roaring lion, 
To entrap all Zion, 
To drag her to your den, 
You, sir, have ever been. 

But, sir, the Princei of, Peace 
Thy captives can release. 
And He has fixed thy doom 
71 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

When they have passed the tomb. 

Forever He shall rain 
Upon thee death and pain; 
Forever He shall roll 
Hot fire upon thy soul. 



GUSSIE. 



Dear Gussie, sweet spirit, gone home to bliss, 
Thy cheerful presence we do greatly miss; 
But though thou art gone to thy home above, 
Still there is with us thy sweet life and love. 

Thou'rt dropt like the bloom from the fairest flow'r. 
Sunk like the sun for the bright morning hour; 
Dropt to bloom in heaven and sunk to rise 
In that dtemaH world beyond the skies. 



72 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



IN MEMORY OF A CLASSMATE. 

'To live in hearts we leave behind 
Is not to die", no, not forever; 

To leave an old home for a new 
The fondest ties doth often sever. 

Our dear classmate, /thou hast left us, 
All thy bonds on earth are sundered; 

In thy new home beyond the skies, 
Thou art with the angels numbered. 

Thy friends and loved ones wonder why 
God called thed away so early; 

But the reason to me is plain, — 

'Twas because He loved thee dearly. 

To another world fair flowers 

To bloom again are moved from this; 

And when our Father moves a soul. 
He greatly needeth it in bliss. 

How we shall /miss thy cheerful face. 

Thy words of comfort and of peace; 
Thy willing hands, thy loving heart, 
73 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

But these thy blessings shall not cease. 

In our dear old alma mater, 

As we shall meet from year to year, 
Thy absence we shall ever mourn, 

And always drop foi; thee aj tear. 

We turn our eyes toward Heaven 
To speak our last and sad farewell, 

For something tells our longing hearts 
That thou dost with the angels dwell. 

'Tis sweet to think of thee up there 
And it doth almost dry our tears, 

To know that thy most blessed home. 
Shall be our own irt future years. 



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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



HEAR, O HEAR, THE SAVIOUR CALLING. 

Hear, O hear, the Saviour calling 
You away from sins appalling; 
Calling you with a loving voice, — 
Wlhy not to-day make Him your choice? 

You need not fear you'll go astray, 
For He's the truth, the life, the way; 
High up in heaven you have heired, 
The mansion house He has prepared. 

There is an action on youn part. 
So give to Him just now your heart; 
And He will put within your breast 
A hope of that eternal rest. 

In His great book He'll write your name 
And note the hour when you became 
An heir of His, a soldier brave, 
When your transgressions He forgave. 

Wake, thou that sleepest, and arise! 
Cease now thy sleep and ope thine eyes; 
Find thou in Him that sweet release, 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

For quickly He His call shall cease. 

O take this journey, wayward son, 
And see what Christ for thee has done! 
Eye hath not seen, nor hath ear heard. 
What they shall have who keep His word. 

Lo, He'll be with thee evermore, 
And when the race of life is o'er, 
He'll take thee into mansions fair 
And thou shalt dwell forever there. 



"boo 




76 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



PEBBLES FROM THE DEEP. 

I. 

Reason doth say a Great First Cause 
Created all and made the laws 
That guide and govern and control 
Each tiny whit, alas! the whole 
Great universe, embracing what 
There is beheld and beheld not; 
But does she teach a man to know 
There is a God, while here below? 
Can she herself alone explain, 
Or can she help him to obtain 
Any certain information 
Of that God or his creation? 

Now there are some who would suggest 
That God exists all things attest. 
Aye, such suggestion may be so, 
But how doth the suggester know? 
A proposition we suggest 
Is insufficient for a test. 
Unless it can be well explained 
And then by Reason well maintained. 
Reason takes the things she knows, 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And gath'ring others as she goes, 
Pursues the object of her flight 
And pours around it heav'nly light. 
But one saith Reason goeth blind, 
That she doth often lose her mind ; 
But if this applies to her 'tis when 
She reasons on the side of Sin; 
For then she leaves things known in view 
For things unknown and things untrue; 
Hence she herself needs Heaven's light. 
To lead and guide her steps aright. 

The creature knows he doth exist, 
The creature knows he doth subsist; 
He knows, he feels, he wills, he moves, 
And thus his own existence proves. 
Then his existence doth suggest 
To his own being Deus est. 
He knows the creature ne'er creates 
A creature, hence substantiates 
The being of a Creator, 
Who is God, the Originator, 
Not only of man< but all things, — 
Yea, the myriads of beings. 
Creatures, worlds, both known and unknown- 
He miade them all, they are His own. 

But mystery impedes the flight 
78 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Of Reason when the sacred light 

Of the Creator fails to roll 

The truth of heaven through her soul. 

She faints and falls before the foe 

Whithersoever she doth go, 

Save when true Wisdom doth inspire 

Her heart with love and holy fire. 

When she is filled with Wisdom's grace, 

Her own origin she doth trace 

Right back to that Eternal One 

Through whom her wondrous works are done. 

Thus if Reason reasoneth right, 

'Tis when she reasons in the light 

Of God, who put her in each man 

That all might know Him and His plan. 

But Evil hath disqualified 

The reason of man to preside 

Over the soul's eternal worth 

While he abides in mother earth; 

Hence a written law, the Bible, 

God made the rule infallible, 

To which man's ev'ry act and thought 

Into subjection must be brought. 

Did Reason like the Bible tell 
Of things in Heaven, things in Hell, 
Did sh© disclose to you and me 
79 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

What was, what is, and is to be, 
Then would the Bible be in vain, 
For man without it could attain 
To things as deep as it doth tell, 
Be they in heaven, earth, or hell ; 
But since she fails to reason out 
The things engulfed in gloom and doubt, 
She needs the Bible to direct 
Her course of mind and intellect. 



II. 



Some look for Nature to impart 
To them a kind of magic art, 
Which shall enable them to find 
E'en what is mystic to the mind; 
But to the wise the fact is known 
That Nature, when she works alone, 
Revealeth naught and nothing worth 
To mortal man while here on earth. 
Tis true she hath a book of lore, 
Which has been famous evermore; 
But wisdom, nor science, nor art, 
Can she herself alone impart. 
If she doth| teach, then tell me why 
She hath pupils to live and die 
In heathenism abject and low. 
Ah, tell me, for I wish to know. 
80 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Truly, all would be scholars wise, 

Were Nature able to advise. 

Whereas right with her we have been, 

E'en from the hour of origin: 

And if she teach, it seems to me 

Our being in her company 

Should be expressive of the truth 

That she hath taught is from our youth. 

Alas! they surely are deceived 

Who think themselves to have received 

One whit of wisdom from a source 

So destitute of teaching force. 

Man learns from Nature's precious book, 

Where'er he turns his eyes to look; 

But though he learns, she doth not teach, — 

This one thought we readily reach; — 

Then man doth show himself to be 

A greater force and strength than she. 

Man, with true Reason on his side, 

Nature's great book can open wide, 

And the Bible, God's law, in brief. 

Helps him peruse each gloomy leaf. 

Aids his reason to reach and find. 

The deep, dark secrets to his mind. 

III. 

Others their lives to Love consign. 
Accounting her a thing divine , 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

A synonym of their dear Lord, 
The source of comfort ana reward. 
Love is great, but hear my warning, 
That love fails to be adorning 
When Reason doth not energize 
Her action and her enterprise. 
Then thy love and reason better 
By fast binding them together, 
Since when sundered and apart. 
They mislead their possessor's heart. 

Of a truth Love comes from Heaven, 
And to mortals she is given; 
Her worth no man can estimate 
While dwelling in this lowly state. 
In fact these three: Faith, Hope, and Love, 
When sent to mortals from above. 
Were meant by Heaven's Potentate 
The souls of all to actuate: 
And, lo, methinks His mighty hand 
Put Reason in the three's command. 
Whereas without her they forget 
From whence they came and where they met. 
But though she doth command the three. 
She never gains a victory, 
Nor wins a battle or a fight 
With her own native strength and might; 
But let her army be complete 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And all her foes she doth defeat. 

Heaven will surely find him out. 
Who hopes and loves and does not doubt; 
Who reasons through the Bible's lore, 
What lies in Nature's boundless store ; 
Who always seeks a brighter goal, 
Who knows the Mlaker of the soul; 
Who trusts in Him and doth confide 
To live and learn beyond the tide. 




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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE CHRISTIAN'S DREAM. 

One night while all was still and dry, 

I stole me out beneath the sky. 

And laid me down beneath a tree, 

To spend an hour in revery; 

And while the starbeam's trembling ray 

About my; cheeks began to play, 

Anon there broke upon my ear 

Some notes of music sweet and clear. 

I listened, but I could not tell 

From whose blest lips those strains did swell; 

But knew no music ere did roll. 

With so much' beauty to my soul, 

From mouth of man or throat of bird, 

As those sweet strains that there I heard. 

There came to me that blessed night 
Two holy angels clad in white; 
Softly touching my mortal frame 
And then addressing me by name, 
Said, in gentle accents, "Arise, 
And go with us beyond the skies. 
For great Jehovah calleth thee 
The happy home of saints to bee." 
Just here methought. "What meaneth this? 
84 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Is this the gate to endless bliss? 
And is this death? Then let me die 
Ten thousand thousand times," thought I. 
The angels knew my thoughts and said, 
"This is death, and now thou art dead; 
But remember that over them 
That have been redeemed by Him 
Who died on Calv'ry's rugged brow, 
Death hath no rule or power now." 

That blessed night's entrancing charm 
Was but the touch of Jesus' arm*, 
The starbeam's ray that kissed my face. 
The light of dying love and grace; 
The heav'nly strains that filled the air. 
The vigils of God's tender care. 
Then bearing me home to glory. 
Repeating salvation's story. 
Went those holy angels of light. 
Clad in their shining robes of white. 
Miy lips, too, caught afire with praise 
And I my voice with them did raise, 
As we joined that numberless throng. 
Still swelling salvation's sweet song. 

M)ethought I yielded up the ghost, 
And went to heaven with this host; 
Methought I left beneath the tree 
85 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

My outward man in revery; 
Methought the beams of heaven's light, 
Did fashion me all fair and bright. 
I looked no longer like an elf, 
For Jesus made me like himself 
With fire like incandescent flame, 
And wrote upon me his new name. 
This transformation gave to me 
A view of all eternity — 
That spirit world with diamonds strewn. 
With flowers sweet and fully blown. 

I looked and, lo, a city fair 
Seemed to be resting in the air; 
Music melodious and clear 
Began to fall upon my ear. 
While lost in wonder and surprise 
At this city of destinies. 
I looked again and now, behold. 
The city seemed to be pure gold; 
And one bright vista, one alone, 
Led on my optics to a throne, 
Which rose in beauty high above, 
On which did sit the God of love. 
Between me and the city lay 
A placid sea, or crystal bay. 
From whose fair and beauteous face 
Evaporates the dews of grace. 
86 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Here, too, is life's great) golden tree, 
Just at the edge of this clear sea, 
Beneath whose branches steals along 
Life's crystal river with a song. 
Songs of redeeming love and grace. 
Rose sweetly from this holy place ; 
Mlusic the sweetest and the best 
That brought to me eternal rest. 

I looked once more and, lo, there hung 
Those worlds of which the poets sung — 
Suns, stars, planets, systems untold, 
Each mantled with a robe of gold. 
I feel enraptured; gone is fear; 
I see the Prince of Peace appear, 
Who is far the fairest flower 
In all the heavenly bower; 
A lily fair, whose fragrant breath 
Saves from despair and awful death 
Our captive souls, all sick and sore, 
And gives them life forevermore. 

Behold the awful change! We fly 
As swift as sunbeams through the sky. 
And now there bursts upon my sight, 
A region of eternal night. 
"And what is this?" I enquire. 
No sooner said than lakes of fire 
(87 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Below; me burn and smokes arise 

That ne'er escape the hellish skies. 

Deep shrieks of anguish and despair 

Saturate the infernal air; 

Eternal fires forever rain 

Throughout the whole thrice black domain, 

And in their everlasting flame, 

Lost souls are foaming out their shame, 

Like the waves of the angry sea, 

Which surge and break 'gainst rock and tree, 

Like infants weeping and distressed. 

Like wandering stars that have no rest. 

A moment longer and we go. 

On through this realm of endless woe, 

And see suspended at our back, 

A sable sphere as midnight black. 

I tremble at the sight and shake, 

And then beneath my oak-tree wake. 

O blessed thought that I abide. 
In Jesus Christ the crucified, 
Who soon will bear me safely o'er. 
To dwell with Him forevermore. 



88 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



BILLY BEDOUIN. 

Could Chance a man originate 
And Fate that man perpetuate, 
I might believe myself to be 
Of just such parentage as he. 

Whosoever did cast my lot, 

Let it be Fortune, Fate, or what, 

But sought the dark, the drear, the wild, 

To leave me there an orphan child. 

A castaway, a wretch ami I, 

Left all alone to live and die 

In the wildest spot that e'ei*, man 

Did see or God Himself did plan; 

Where fierce wild beasts both night and day, 

Thrice miad with hunger search for prey, 

And fill the great deep forest home 

With screams of anger as they roam ; 

Where all is wild as wild can) be. 

Surrounded by a wild, wild sea. 

Whose briny waters ever teem 

With howling things and things that scream. 

For one to be an orphan child, 
Left all alone in such a wild, 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Is more terrible felt than heard; 
And it would take some other word 
Than that of mortals to relate 
The horrors felt in such a state. 

Why such should ever be my lot 

I will confess that I know not, 

But be my portion bad or well 

Right here it seems that I must dwell. 

Sometimes I almost think myself 

To be what some would call an elf, 

But when I see myself aright 

My fairy thought doth take its flight. 

I know that down by one old tree, 
Whose branches almost reach the sea, 
Two grassy mounds alone appear. 
Where rest the forms of parents dear. 
And those who came across the sea 
To help them found a colony. 
Also died, leaving me to fight 
The plague of death with infant might. 
I have no reason I can give 
Why I remained to thrive and live, 
Unless an unseen hand of love, 
Let down from blissful climes above, 
Kept off the awful pestilence 
And served for me a safe defense. 
90 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

It may be I am left to keep 
And watch the graves of those who sleep; 
For they were saints who freedom sought, 
Freedom to teach and to be taught. 

My life and ev'rything around 

Is full of secrets, deep, profound, 

And I am left to reason out 

What I would know through gloom and doubt. 

The great above and deep below 

I try to fathom and to know; 

But each is an unbounded sea 

Of deepest, darkest mystery. 

Lo, there is life within my frame. 
But can I tell from whence it came? 
Did earth give it? or did it fly 
From some fair world beyond the sky? 
No creature could my soul create, 
Nor did I come by chance or fate: 
Methinks from an Eternal Source 
I surely get my living force. 

But am I left without a guide. 
Fenced in by this great ocean wide? 
Left with an instinct of my own 
To solve my problems all alone? 
Nay, for in me is a power, 
Hid as life within the flower, 
91 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

To know my course and guide my way 
As on/ I plod from day to day. 

Though torn from those I loved the best, 
I shall not be for aye distressed; 
For He who took my parents dear, 
Doth bid ma hold no doubt or fear; 
And while I do not comprehend, 
I have no doubts as to the end. 
The parting words of loved ones gave 
Me hope of life beyond the grave; 
And I know from a voice within 
That I shall surely live again. 
Then Why should I lament my lot 
And think this isle so dark a spot? 

When I lie down to sleep death's sleep, 

There will be not a friend to weep; 

Not a foe to rejoice, I pray, 

•While I silently pass away. 

No dirge o'er me shall there be sung, 
No funereal marches rung; 
No doleful filling of thei tomb, 
For I shall fall midst flowers that bloom 
Flowers of joys that never fade, 
Of hope and love and dying aid. 
To lie uncovered here in peace 
Till comes my hour of sweet release. 
92 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



PAY YOUR VOWS UNTO THE MOST HIGH 

Pay your vows unto the Mlost High; 

You promised Him your life and love, 
If He would only save your soul 

And send you blessings from above. 

Your soul He saved, the blessings came, 
And they are coming, coming yet; 

Pay your vows unto the Miost High, 
You may forget, you may forget. 

You said goodby to selfish aims, 
To all the ways of sin goodby; 

Brother, remember, remember. 

Pay your vows unto the Most High. 

Pay your vows unto the Most High, 

Do not forget, do not forget; 
Your vows are in the book of God, 

Why not pay them yet, pay them yet? 

Just one more day may shut the door. 
Just one more night may turn the key; 

And leave our unpaid vows to seal 
A black and awful destiny. 
93 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



WHAT IS SUCCESS? 

Success, the business man would say, 
Is making business go your way; 
Piling up gold and precious wares 
Like the mightiest millionaires. 

Doctors believe success to be 

Power to heal each malady. 

To get therefor a handsome sum 

And make more patients want to come. 

The lawyer succeeds when he sees 
Growing fame and increasing fees, 
The arguments against his case 
Giving his own opinions place. 

The preacher thinks he's succeeding 
When the people hear his pleading, 
Join his church, promptly pay the dues. 
And ev'ry service fill the pews. 

The teacher thinks he's gaining ground 
When his sarryi goes up a round, 
When his pupils obey and learn 
94 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And help the fires of progress burn. 

The poet thinks his verses shine 
When they are quoted line by line, 
Wihen critics laud him to the skies 
And make his fame forever rise. 

The farmer, with much fruit of toil, 
And wide sections of fertile soil. 
Thinks he has struck the lucky nail 
And holds success fast by the tail. 

What do you think success to be? 
With the others do you agree? 
If my opinion you would know, 
You may gather it just below. 

Being and doing all you can 
To help yourself and fellow man, 
Living a life that God will bless 
Is what I call a true success. 



95 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



BROKEN CLOUDS. 

A beautiful day was born 
Not a cloud was on that morn; 
But before the sun went down 
The face of heav'n wore a frown. 

A beautiful child was born 
To brighten a home forlorn, 
But it scarcely got its breath 
Till there came a call from death. 

A blessed hope was born 
On a bright and happy morn, 
But before the night came on 
It had vanished and was gone. 

Thus the race of life is run, 
Clouds to-day, to-morrow sun; 
Sun to-day, clouds to-morrow. 
For ev'ry joy a sorrow. 



96 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



PUFF, PUFF, PUFF. 

Puff, puff, puff, 
On thy cigarettes, O fool! 
And I would that my tongue could tell 
How useless to thee is school. 

Puff, puff, puff. 
Through the golden days of youth; 
Ever learning but never coming 
To a knowledge of the truth. 

Oh, well for the abstaining boy! 
Let him evermore abstain; 
Oh, well for the penitent boy. 
Who will never puff again. 

Still some foolish puffers go on 
Blighting and ruining the brain, 
Despite of what is said unto them. 
For what is said is in vain. 

Puff, puff, puff. 
And drive your coffin nails; 
The lost vigor of thy youth 
Will return to thee with wails. 
97 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE CUD-CHEWERS. 

Once I knew a silly girl, 
Whose head had many a curl ; 
And she and her giddy chum, 
Were forever chewing gum. 

Two boys as silly as they 
Came to see the girls one day; 
But what for I never knew, 
Unless 'twas to l€a;n to chc \ 

The four went out for a walk, 
But couldn't take time to talk; 
For each boy and silly maid. 
Chewed like cattle in the shade. 

Tis said the four went to school 
And called the teacher a fool. 
Just because he passed a law 
To keep the gum from their jaw. 

The old hard-hearted teacher 
Was asi strict as a preacher; 
And there was nothing surer, 
98 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

He would not have a chewer. 

"Do not chew your lives away, 
Like a cow that's eating hay," 
Said he to; the girls and boys 
While they chewed in perfect joys. 

The boys ceased their chewing soon, 
Hoping to resume at noon; 
But the girls, with hand-propped chins. 
Glanced about with silly grins. 

The instructor, by and by. 
With keen lightning in his eye, 
Gave to themj such plain advice 
That they felt as small as mice. 

"Girls," said he, " 'twill never do 
To forever keep a chew 
Stuck between your precious lips 
Where your swain love's nectar sips.'* 

The maids then dropped their brows, 
Like two lazy, sleepy cows; 
And with slowly acting paws. 
Pulled the cuds from out their jaws. 



99 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



THE VISION. 

WheiT I was a child of tender years, 
With curious thoughts and divers fears, 
There came a vision of heav'nly love 
Down into my soul from God above. 

Although as a child I understood 

I prayed my Father to make me good, 
And in answer to my simple pray'r 

II became accepted then and there. 

When I am tempted to go astray, 
I turn me back to that happy day 
When I was given the heav'nly light, 
And receive new courage for the fight. 

Vision of my youth, my comfort be 
All the way across the stormy sea; 
Wherever tossed by wind or wave, 
Remind me( of God's power to save. 

My dear friends, whose hair is turning gray, 
Go back often to thy youthful day 
When the heavenly vision was near, 
100 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

And do not forget to hold it dear. 

Go back when the stars in heaven's blue 
Spoke miessages of God's love to you, 
Preached you sermions of the spirit's goal, 
And shed sweet communion on your soul. 

That heavenly vision e'er obey 
And cherish until your dying day. 
For thy dear Father, who sent it down. 
Will surely bestow the promised crown. 




101 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



FLYIN' INSTRUMENTS. 

Ever' time I go to run my trot — 

And I don't need to give 'em hints — 
I'm willin' to be knifed or shot 
If ten thousand fly in' instruments 
Don't buzz around my light 
And pester me out o' sight. 

'Skeeters, gnats, and all such allied — 

I call 'em flyin' instruments— 
Anything that can puncture your hide 
Till it hangs in a thousand rents. 
Bugologists have another name, 
But in the long-run it's all the same. 

It makes no difference what, 

They bleed you their level best; 
When your stagin' ties in a knot 
You can't have a moment's rest; 
But one don't notice where he's at 
In case he's hung a bouncin' cat. 

Flyin' instruments after all 

Are not so mortifyin' bad; 
When a man can make a haul 
102 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

To keep him a-feelin' glad, 
All the instruments in the air 
Cannot run him away from there. 

Fish in' is like most other things, 

It hath both its joys and' sorrows; 
But whoso pulls the proper strings 
Very little trouble borrows; 
And learns not to mind the rents 
Made by flyin' instruments. 




103 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



A POSSUM HUNT. 

If I want my cup to brim with joy, 
I take me back when I was a boy, 
Wfhen we used to possum hunt at nights. 
And my heart ran over with delights. 

When persimmons were at their best, 
And the leaves were down to rest, 
With pineknot torch as rich as tar. 
We threaded our way near and far. 

Old' Jack, our ever faithful dog, 
Would swim a creek or walk a log, 
And follow a trail so far in the dark, 
That we could scarcely hear him bark. 

He was ai dog that never lied, 
And never barked till satisfied 
The game he sought was up the free, 
Where he stayed in expectancy. 

Or if perchance 'twas in a hole, 
There he scratched till we got a pole; 
And breathlessly he hung about, 
104 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Till we twisted the creature out. 

As a last resort, tobacco smoke 
Was forced within the den to choke 
The varmint till he came our way, 
Or suffocate him w^here he lay. 

No tree in the woods too high grew, 
Nor was one ever so big through 
Our axes could not lay it low 
Before the morning's golden glow. 

But if the night was almost done. 
We would lay by to use a gun ; 
Sometimes asleep, someitimes boasting, 
Sometimes at potato roasting. 

Often a possum or a coon. 
Sighted between us and the moon, 
Was shot to the ground in the night 
Without our waiting for daylight. 

'Twas somewhat savage, I confess, 
To put those creaitures in distress; 
But we hatch out a solution 
Charging it to evolution. 



105 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



A FISHIN' TALE. 

"They're a bkin," said old Joe, 
"An' ril just slip down a bit 

An' drop in my line just so. 
Where I'm accustomed to sit. 

"I have a place on the grass, 
Under the old sycamore tree, 

Where I always get a bass — 
They are usually waitin' for me. 

"My pole is a common pole. 
Generally a pawpaw sprout; 

An' the hole is a little hole. 
But all the same I yank 'em out. 

"A five cent piece buys my line, 
An' a copper gets my hook ; 

But my luck is superfine — 
I catch 'em in ev'ry nook. 

"I use a fruit jar for a trap, 

I specially rig for bait; 
An' I often take a nap, 
106 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Should it; be my luck to wait. 

"Do not have to tarry long 
For all the minnows I desire; 

They come rushin' in a throng 
Like so many gnats to a fire. 

"Now if I should chance to wait 

A little long for a bite, 
I simply spit on my bait 

An' see 'em go at it right. 

"It may sound foolish to you, 

But I declare it will work; 
One application will do 

If you but know when to jerk. 

"It tides me over a spell 

To fish for a day or two; 
It makes me sound an' well 

An' my blood an" muscles new. 

"One doesn't have to catch great whales 
On a simple pleasure search, 

Nor the kind that break the scales — 
There's satisfaction in a perch. 

"How I do pity a soul. 

Who never did feel the thrill 
107 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Telegraphed along a pole 
When one's a-bitin' to kill." 

Just ask old Joe why he's old, 
Why he's so strong and hale, 

And his answer he'll unfold 
In a simple fishing tale. 

He'll ^tell you, before it's too late, 
And you've begun to shiver. 

To get a fishing-pole and bait 
And bike out for the river. 



108 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



LOOK UP. 

Look up ; 
The stars are all above, 
So is heaven, so is love. 

Look up; 
Joys stud the golden sky 
For every upturned eye. 

Look up ; 
For Heaven must needs frown 
On eyes which are cast down. 

Look up; 
Not because you despise 
That which beneath you lies. 

Look up ; 
Because your Maker's f^ce 
Sheds on you smiles of grace. 

Look up ; 
Keep the eyes of your soul 
Fixed firmly on the goal. 

109 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



TAKE A DAY OFF. 

Take a day off; 
And play your very best, 
For you surely need to rest. 

Take a day off; 
You will find yourself stronger 
And live a good while longer. 

Take a day off; 
Try your utmost to see 
How cheerful you can be. 

Take a day off; 
For it invariably earns 
One many happy returns. 

Take a day off; 
If you will do it often, 
You may delay your coffin. 



10 



CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



DO NOT WAIT. 

Do not wait with the thousands at the gdte, 

But enter with the few, 

Wlho would be noble, good and true. 

Rather than linger with the throng 

That prefer to drift along, 

Hoping to gain the blest abode, 

By being merely found upon the road. 

Do not wait with loiterers at the gate, 

Because the gate may close 

And leave thee doomed with those 

Who will never, never gain 

Entrance to the blest domain; 

Nor dare thou stand in thy brother's way 

Lest he also may go astray. 

Do not wait with grumblers at the gate; 

Accept the sun, or rain, 

Whether loss or whether gain, 

For a brighter and better fate 

Awaits thee beyond the gate, — 

Awaits the faithful and the true. 

And guides the uncomplaining through. 

Do not wait with atheists at the gate, 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

Wihto say there's no other side, 
Though the gate is open wide 
And the stars are shining bright 
Through ithe day and through the night, 
In the glorious, blissful skies, 
Brighti enough to dim thine eyes. 

Do not wait with any at the gate, 

Whether sinner or whether saint. 

To utter a complaint; 

But thyself at onoe withdraw. 

In obedience to the Law, 

And never permit thy soul 

To stop short of its intended goal. 



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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



MY PLATFORM. 

Tihough others do, I'll not complain; 
What's the use? It never lifts 
The load or the burden shifts, 
Nor does it ever count for gain. 

I'll not complain, it's a poor plan 
To go around with, a growl 
And a perpetual howl 
For. the mere reason that I can. 

I'll not complain, for it's not right; 
Believe me, I'll have the nervei 
Never to blench or to swerve 
So long as I am in the fight. 

ril not complain; it's not good sense 
For one to turn up his nose 
Every time an ill wind blows. 
Nor will it bring a recompense. 

I'll not complain; here I will stand, 
Because I know that I can 
Be an all round, four-square man, 
And Heaven will lend me a hand. 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



GET OFF THE FENCE. 

Get off the fence; 
On one side or the other 
You will find in need 
Some worthy brother. 

Get off the fence; 
It is the wrong place for you 
To hunt for the work 
That you best can do. 

Get off the fence; 
It is on the solid ground, 
Or lower down still, 
Where jewels are found. 

Get off the fence; 
Because there's nothing on top 
For him who refuses 
To turn loose and drop. 

Get off the fence; 
But do not sit idly down 
And expect for yourself 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

A bright golden crown. 

Get off the fence; 
But maintain a steady pace 
For the prize in store 
At the end of the race. 




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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



TELL THE TRUTH. 

Tell the truth, 
For it pays in a thousand ways. 

Tell the truth, 
Stand your grounds till the trumpet sounds. 

Tell the truth, 
And have the nerve never to swerve. 

Tell the truth 
If it kills; thy duty it fulfills. 

Tell the truth 
Whether in pains, irt losses or in gains. 

Tell the truth, 
Part from) it not and don't say you forgot. 

Tell the truth 
Every breath, and stick to it till death. 

Tell the truth, 
Do not doubt, for Heav'n will find you out. 



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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



OHEERFULNESS. 

Be of good cheer; 
For you can possess the fine art 
Of commanding joy for your heart. 

Be of good cheer; 
(The toil will be at least half done 
When your fight for courage is won. 

Be of good cheer; 
Let down the anchor of the soul 
And keep both eyes fixed on the goal. 

Be of good cheer; 
For whether you succeed or fail 
Downheartedness will not prevail. 

Be of good cheer; 
For you may be only blest 
With painful trials for a test. 

Be of good cheer; 
Because God is not far away 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

From those who will cheerful stay. 

Be of good cheer; 
The graces all for you will search, 
And vict'ry on your banner perch. 



PESSIMISM. 



What's the use to do 
Your best, or the other? 
No one will thank you — 

Not even your brother. 

What's the use to strive 
To possess a good, clean name? 
For sure as you're alive 

You'll be slandered all the same. 

What's the use to give 
Your neighbor a square deal? 
For certain as yoU) live 

'Twill only make himi squeal. 

What's the use to share 
Another's weal or woe? 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

You' just as well not care 
A rap and let him go. 

What's the use to pray 
And store away regrets, 
When church members don't pay 

Their vows and honest debts? 

What's the use to be 
A Christian — if one could? — 
There's naught in it for me, 

Since it can do) no good. 

What's the use to wait 
And be sorely tried 
In this impossible state 

Where Christ was crucified? 

What's the use to try 
To go to Heav'n to dwell. 
When all under the sky 

Are going straight to hell? 

What's the use ? I say 
If I'd lives by the score, 
I should not wish to stay 

On this accurs6d shore. 

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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 



OPTIMSM. 
I never did my best 
But that a glorious rest 
Was my reward from the Lord. 

I never helped a brother 

But that I longed to help another; 

In doing so my heart did glow. 

I nevei^ prayed a prayer 
When my Maker was not there 
My heart to bless with happiness, 

I never helped a soul in need 
And went unrewarded for the deed; 
More was returned than I had earned. 

I never saw the worst Christian so low 

As the best sinner I know; 

I do not fear to make this clear. 

I never limit the power of grace 
To a person or a place, 
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CHIPS AND WHETSTONES. 

For it can wini the worst of men. 

I never the hereafter dread, 

For my soul is amply fed 

On food unseen and hope serene. 



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iVIAY IC 1913 



